Heart of Battle
by JamesXorcist
Summary: Street Fighter IV tournament. This story explores the fighters struggles and thoughts through each fight. 2nd round: Gen vs. Dhalsim.
1. Round 1

Authors note: Matches were picked at random. The winners are determined by tier list, my preference, weather and injuries (1st round).

I don't own Street Fighter or its characters.

**Round 1**

_Ryu vs. Zangief_

The whistle of wind through the cherry blossoms signaled the start of the fight. Ryu, wandering loner, martial arts master vs. Zangief, the Red Cyclone, patriotic grappler. The Moon beamed over the battlefield; the wooden surface shimmering. The setting was perfect. Screams would fill the air and blood would spill over the Earth. The whole world came to a halt as the first battle began.

Ryu scanned his opponent. Muscles bulged wherever he looked. Those arms… if he was caught by those arms it would all be over. Ryu was strong - very much so – but he knew his opponent was stronger. Ryu was not foolish. He was a tactician. If he could just keep out of his opponents range, he would win. Speed would be the key. And with that thought, the Russian began to advance, his frame seeming more threatening the closer he got. Ryu backed off, slightly, his feet patting against the wooden floor. He needed to keep him at bay. With that, he cupped his hands to his side. Heat began to rise from the pit of his stomach. Blue energy began to form and it swirled within his hands.

"Hadouken!" He shouted as he released the fireball from his hands. Zangief shielded his body with his trunk like arms and the fireball scorched his skin before fizzing out. Ryu sighed. He felt this was going to be a long fight. Again, Zangief advanced.

Zangief's arms tingled slightly from the fireball as he made his move. He noticed his opponent was keeping his distance. Smart move, thought Zangief. But, he couldn't run forever. The Red Cyclone always got his prey. Today would be no different. He noticed Ryu charging up another fireball. The last one was like a light burn, but he knew couldn't hold a barrage of fireballs forever. With a roar of laughter, he held out his arms to his sides and spun, like the Red Cyclone he was. He saw a blur of blue fizz out in front of him and he halted. Ryu was staring wide eyed. The fireball hadn't affected him at all. In the name of Mother Russia, Zangief would be victorious! He lunged at Ryu, his hand open palmed ready to grab what ever body part he could. Zangief clasped hold of his arm, but it slipped slightly. It gripped his gi and Ryu tugged. It shredded easily away, exposing Ryu's right shoulder. Zangief grunted in frustration, throwing the shredded piece of cloth to his side as he dived at him with both arms, this time. But, Ryu was too fast and he rolled right through his arms and to the back of him. Zangief heard a call of 'Tatsumaki' and Ryu's foot slammed the back of his head. A loud slap of skin filled the air and Zangief collapsed to one knee. He was dazed. Ryu had the advantage.

Ryu stared at the large back of his opponent, his hands cupped once again. Was it possible he looked even more threatening from the back? Red fire scorched in his hands. Ryu was taking advantage of the situation, readying a more powerful fireball. He released it with a cry. It pounded against Zangief's back, searing and burning the skin and knocking him forward ever more slightly. A cry of pain from the Russian echoed through the temple grounds, signaling Ryu to throw another fireball. Ryu felt it was over. Zangief was on his knees, dazed and dizzy, his skin scorched. The Russian grappler was surely defeated. Ryu charged his most powerful fireball yet. His skin stinging with sweat, his energy draining; it was about to end.

"Metsu… Hadoken!" His roar echoed and his body trembled. The fireball burned through the atmosphere and headed for its victim. It was… over? No. Ryu noticed his opponent stand up. Something was glowing green by his side. It seemed to be his hand. Suddenly, his body flashed gold and he was passing through the fireball! Zangief's fist cracked against Ryu's hip, making him keel over slightly to the left. Ryu screamed in pain as he felt the bone chip. Fear and pain swept through his body. He felt helpless as the wrestler curled his massive fingers around his head, his palm pressing painfully against his nose. He was suspended in mid-air, his neck muscles straining and down he came. The back of his head cracked against wood, shattering it. Spilnters encased into his head and hair and blood smothered the surface. It was all over. His eyes were glazed over, his body was aching, and his mind was going.

Zangief, his back still burning and his mind slightly fuzzy, lifted his victim upside down, curing his arms around Ryu's waste. He held the pride of his nation in his heart. He could not lose. He launched upwards into the starless sky. The Moon beamed onto him, saluting his victory. He saw the Russian flag on its surface. He saluted, his mind also going. The flag fizzed from view as he started to spin. This had to be it. Nobody got up from his signature spinning piledriver. The Russian anthem rung in his ears. He – no – _they_ had done it!

The path to becoming a warrior… getting stronger… he would not lose… he could not lose. Suddenly, Ryu's eyes sprung open. Everything was a blur. What was happening? He could see the Moon blur in and out. He felt somebody's arms around him. It was Zangief, his opponent, another obstacle. He could hear sobbing and he could see the tears falling around him. I'm sorry, he thought. But I can't lose. With all the strength he could muster, he spread his aching legs. The Russian Cyclone is powerful indeed… but how about the Japanese Cyclone! Ryu's body glowed and he spun his legs as fast as he could. His feet slammed into the Russian's soaking face several times until he was out of his clasp. Ryu soared back to Earth, landing hard onto the wood, his ankle twisting slightly. He ignored the pain and looked up at his honorable opponent. He could see his eyes glistening, tears scattering from them.

Ryu smiled up at him. "I'm sorry, my friend. Thank you for the fight," and with that, he clenched his fist, building up every last bit of energy he had, he soared into the air. His fist cracked against Zangief's jaw. Ryu flopped to the ground, not bothering to land on his feet. He looked up at the sky, his body beaten, bruised and broken. He felt the ground shake slightly. He had won. He laughed quietly to himself. What a strange world fighter's lived in.


	2. Round 2

Authors note: I forgot to mention what the next match was! Oh, well - I'll remember this time.

I don't own Street Fighter or its characters.

**Round 2**

_Gen vs. Dhalsim_

A loud cheer erupted from the wet, crowded streets of China, making several pigeons flee. The second match of the Street Fighter IV tournament was beginning. In the center of the excited crowd were the combatants:

Gen, seeker of death vs. Dhalsim, bringer of life.

Gen's body was weak from old age and because of an incurable illness, but he was not to be underestimated. Master of a deadly martial art, nobody he faced survived to see another day. He had astonished doctors again and again by defying death. He would not die by this illness. No. There was only one way he would go: in battle. Unfortunately, he had never found his equal. Perhaps today would be the day.

Dhalsim's body was weak, also, but for different reasons to his opponent. Hailing from India, his people suffered from starvation. He had mastered yoga for this very day. He hoped to win and send the prize money home to end their suffering. His body was thin and frail, but his mind was strong.

Gen stroked his beard and grinned at his opponent. '_Interesting_,' he thought. The crowd booed impatiently and Gen wasn't about to let them down. He shifted his feet across the moist pavement. He stretched his palm out and held it to his side. He was ready to strike. He flew forwards, the water spraying upwards onto the crowd. But he was quickly halted as his opponents foot sprang upwards, the sole slapping against Gen's cheek. Spit flew from his mouth and he stumbled slightly backwards. His cheek throbbing, he stared back at Dhalsim. He could stretch his limbs! Gen grinned even wider. '_Excellent_,' he thought. It would seem his opponent would try to keep him away with his limbs. A smart move, Gen thought, but he couldn't keep him away forever. He had certainly surprised him, but it was Gen's turn to spring one of his own. He lifted into the air, spinning backwards. The crowd watched in amazement as Gen went flying over their heads. His feet planted against the near by wall. With a push, he was off again, sailing towards his opponent, his foot outstretched.

Dhalsim was impressed. He'd never seen an old man move so swiftly. But, he was ready as his opponent hovered over him. His lungs filled with powerful chi. His head sprung backwards and fire spouted from his mouth scorching the bottom of Gen's shoes. Gen flew backwards with a yelp and into a puddle. The fire sizzled out and Gen sighed.

'_My, my, we do have some tricks_,' Gen grinned like a madman. '_But I have a few of my own_!'

Gen, once again, launched into the air, over the crowd, to the wall and towards Dhalsim.

Dhalsim shook his head at his opponent, disappointed. If you don't succeed, try, try again must be his motto. Dhalsim readied another Yoga Blast. But he suddenly halted when Gen went straight over his head. Did he miss? He followed him with his pupil-less eyes. This time, Gen had used one of the spectators as a launch pad! Gen and the poor citizen went flying in opposite directions, his foot, once again, outstretched. Dhalsim had no time to react and his opponents boot collided against his cheek with a wet 'slap'. Dhalsim's head spun, his neck cracking. He heard the crowd cheer around him. His body began to fall towards the soaking pavement. Just as he was bracing himself for the impact, Gen suddenly appeared beneath him, his legs curled upwards and the soles of his feet staring up at him. Gen kicked out. Left, right, left, right, left, right. Dhalsim's face assaulted again and again. He felt his body lift with each strike. Gen hit him with his hardest kick yet, right on the bridge of his nose. Dhalsim began to fall painfully back to Earth.

But Gen wasn't about to let that happen. With the speed of someone half his age and his body pointed like a dart, he once again headed for his prey. Suddenly, there was a flash of light and Dhalsim had disappeared! The crowd gasped and darted their eyes around. Gen hit the floor with a splash. Maybe he had ran? Cowardly, but smart. Gen laughed triumphantly. Until he felt two hands clasp around his shoulders. He was lifted from his feet and thrown backwards. He easily landed on his feet and noticed his opponent was back. Gen was impressed, once again, but he felt he had the advantage. His cheek was throbbing and the soles of his feet were burnt, but he looked like a million dollars compared to Dhalsim with his busted lip and swollen eye. It had been a good fight, but it was time to finish it. He noticed his opponent's chest inflate.

"Yoga Fire!" He cried.

The flame was smaller than before and it was heading straight for him! He curled into a ball and rolled under it, easily. The pavement scraping his back, slightly and his clothes soaking up the rain. Dhalsim leapt and did his own version of a roll. His arms and legs curled all around him, he spun back to Earth, landing behind Gen. Gen halted his roll, staring directly at Dhalsim's bare feet. He pushed his hands into the pavement, a few stones lodging into his skin. He coiled his legs around Dhalsim's neck and pulled him over. With a crunch, Dhalsim was on his back. Gen stood up and stared down at his victim. Dhalsim was dazed. Gen spun his body and into the air he went, a huge gust of wind building up around him. The crowd screamed and scattered. Dhalsim launched across the street, slapping painfully against the pavement. Gen, however, landed neatly on his feet.

Dhalsim's ears were ringing. He wasn't aware of what had just happened. But, he knew one thing: he was about to lose. Unlike himself, Gen could be reckless. He was just looking for someone to better him in battle and end his life. Maybe that is what Dhalsim had to do. The only chance he had of winning was to sacrifice himself. No. That would be pointless. That wouldn't help anyone. He could still win this; he just had to be tricky. Gen was old, but wise?

'_We shall see_.'

Dhalsim ears were still ringing, but he was sure he could make out cheers from the crowd. So, they thought Gen had won. He would spring another surprise on them as he got to his feet. The crowd froze when they saw Dhalsim rise and then they glanced at Gen.

Gen nodded, impressed. Maybe this fight would be the death of both of them. Gen took his fighting stance. The crowd was silently waiting for the first move.

"Yoga…" Dhalsim started, bending as far back as his bruised back would let him.

Gen raised an eyebrow. '_Doesn't he learn_?'

"… Catastrophe!"

Gen was shocked at what came out of his mouth! It was a fireball five times bigger than the previous, so much so that it engulfed Dhalsim's frame from view. Gen winced at the heat. Yes, it was big, but it was also extremely slow. Gen readied himself for another jump, but suddenly stopped when Dhalsim appeared in front of him with a flash. Gen hesitated and he paid for it. Dhalsim's hands clutched his shoulders and he was thrown through the air once again. But instead of a hard, cold pavement waiting for him, it was a huge, burning ball of fire! His life flashed before his eyes. It was the moment he had been waiting for. He had found his equal. The fire engulfed him, burning his skin and soul. The fire evaporated and so did Gen's mind.

Next match: Akuma vs. Balrog.


End file.
